


Salted Caramel

by TribeOfTheForsaken



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Semblances (RWBY), Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Jealousy, M/M, Mutual Pining, Object Insertion, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past qrow branwen/ozpin - Freeform, Poly STR, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tagged those with speaking roles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:14:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28936827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TribeOfTheForsaken/pseuds/TribeOfTheForsaken
Summary: Qrow packs up his life to get away from a liar, and meets a sweet barista that makes him new kinds of coffee every morning.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Ozpin, Qrow Branwen/Tyrian Callows
Kudos: 9





	Salted Caramel

**Author's Note:**

> Read the tags.
> 
> READ
> 
> THE
> 
> TAGS
> 
> Have a nice day.

Qrow Branwen, substitute History professor, uncle of two, mother crow of ten to his dojo of kids. He made the move to Atlas, getting as far away from Ozpin Ambrose as possible. 

He had felt bad for the move, having made Raven need to run everything. It was just for the semester, while he got himself together, while he himself was not teaching the kids at the moment, being in a completely different city to them. He had given the keys to the dojo to Yang so they could still use it to practice. He already figured that they were going to have no less than five parties, it would be hard for them to top what he did at their age, so he wasn’t particularly bothered.

Qrow had come clean to them on why he was moving, and he had to make them promise, Yang in particular but found that Jaune was just as angry on his behalf as her, that they were not going to burn Ozpin’s house down in broad daylight.

Or in the dead of night. Or at any time. He closed the loopholes.

It was a few days of settling into the small apartment in the new city, meeting a few nosy neighbors, and ignoring every call he got. He couldn’t avoid one man in particular, a gym rat named Clover that seemed to live in the ground floor gym, and when he wasn’t there, always seemed to be in the elevator whenever he was coming and going to his room.

They didn’t talk much, not from the lack of trying on Clover’s part. Qrow eyed the military tags hanging from his neck. That man was _buff,_ with the personality of a golden retriever. Overly friendly, would probably wag his tail at someone breaking into his house.

Eventually, Tai had enough. It wasn't that he was avoiding his brother in law on purpose. So when Tai turned up to his apartment at 10pm with an overnight bag Qrow wasn’t surprised.

“This is what happens when you don't answer my texts.” He huffed. Qrow tried not to be offended when Tai had gone through his cupboards, looking for booze. He had given it up years ago. The breakup had caused him to relapse.

Tai did not like that he was alone here, and he was frankly, pissed off at James for taking Qrow from Vale and bringing him to Atlas. Qrow had to scoff at that. Qrow had made the decision himself. James just offered a direction. James himself was ready to tear Ozpin a new one, and Ozpin was steering clear completely of the rival headmaster. So he was safe from Ozpin turning up to his door, and even if Ozpin did, Qrow had a knife with his name on it. There was a small part of him that felt relief that all their mutual friends were no longer speaking to Ozpin, that they were on his side.

Tai and Qrow made plans for Qrow to show him the city, so Qrow started with his favourite place.

The Violet Rush was a small cafe, tucked down the corner. Theoretically the ocean view should have been an amazing spot to have a cafe and had to have cost a fortune to rent the space- but it was so out of the way from everywhere else that it had to have been losing business to the more accessible cafes spotted in the inner area.

That didn’t matter to Qrow. he rather liked the near vacant nature of the cafe. The two of them entered, and Tai looked around, blinking slowly to take in the homely, cramped space. It didn’t go the easy route with a seashore motif, but played up the warmth of the lights above, the red couches and seats cosy.

He loved it here. He could sit in there for hours and work on his laptop, and had his regular seat. In the corner, looking out on the view.

"Hey, Qrow!" The barista beamed.

"Hey Tier," he said. "Surprise me?"

 _Surprise me_ was their little thing, Tyrian would make him anything ranging from a mocha to an espresso with any multitude of mixed flavoured shots. He would test new combinations on Qrow and get his opinion on it.

"This place is great." Tai, said, slapping his hand on Qrow's shoulder as he looked around. Tai didn't miss the sharp look from Tyrian's gold eyes flicked to him. "I did not think this place would be your go to, it doesn't fit your brooding aesthetic."

"Who is this?" Tyrian asks through thin lips. 

"Oh, this is Tai-" he motioned to the blond, who wasn’t listening to them, opening his mouth to speak and not realizing he was interrupting his own introduction.

"Man, Ruby would love it here, the girls would love it."

Was it him, or did Tyrian look like he was sulking? Qrow frowned, never seeing 

Tai chose for them to sit outside, the cool salty breeze salt of rotting seaweed today after the recent storm.

"So elephant in the room. Why have you been ignoring my calls, and texts?"

He knew that conversation would be coming up, yet he still wasn't prepared for it. 

"I'm trying to get on top of everything." He sighed. "I don't. Want to lash out. The anger keeps catching me off guard."

"Have you seen that therapist I told you about?" Tai asked, and Qrow had to think of something to not offend his brother in law. The Triad had needed some couples counselling when Raven had run away, but she had come back, and the relationship was strained. 

Both twins had issues with intimacy. Raven had found love in Tai and Summer, and Qrow had found love in Ozpin. Only for it to come crashing down, and all the trust built up between them shattered with a single phone call.

"... No." Qrow said shortly. "I don't need someone to tell me my feelings are important and what he did was wrong. I already know that." He stared into his coffee. "Ambrose lied. I don't want anything to do with him." He said, hoping Tai would drop it.

But Tai was stubborn. His girls got that from him.

"That was apparent when you moved to work at a rival academy." Tai said, wincing as he sipped his coffee.

"'Rival' Academy. Don't they all have the same goal to educate?" Qrow said bitterly. "Besides, Jim needed someone to take over for Tik while he recovers."

"What happened to Tik?"

"He got jumped by a gang, he's still in hospital." He should have made up a lie because Tai did not like that answer.

"Dude, what? And that happened around here?"

"Yeah." He nodded, but still felt Tai stare. "Don't with the face-"

"Qrow." He said flatly. 

"I have my knife, oh! And in case you forgot, black belts in five kinds of martial arts." He sipped at his latte. Just as he always liked it, just the hint of sugar, but also hazelnut today. "Speaking of which, Ruby is starting on a boa staff."

“Don’t change the subject.” Tai said with his dad voice, Qrow groaned and rolled his eyes. "Have you been taking your meds?"

"Yeap." Qrow gave a little point with his finger. "I come here every morning to talk to the cute barista, have a coffee and take my Antidepressants."

"You have a morning schedule and I'm proud." Tai then grinned. "Wait, the cute barista in there? Have you asked him out yet?”

Qrow flushed. "I am not asking him out. If he rejects me I can never show my face here again." 

"So you're going to silently pine after him? Typical Branwen, she gets it from your side of the family." Tai said, as Tyrian came outside with the two plates of the breakfast plate.

“Thanks Tier.” Qrow smiled, he could see Tai raise an eyebrow at him, so he snapped back to his oldest friend. “I didn’t teach Yang the silent pining technique that’s on you, dad one.”

“Yeah well you’re supposed to pick up my slack, dad two.”

Tyrian dropped the plate a little hard, landing with a clunk in front of Tai.

“Enjoy your meal, gentlemen.” He said, not giving them a second glance as he made his way back inside.

"So why, exactly, have you moved here?" Tai asked, nursing his coffee and dumping more sugar into it then he would usually. “You didn’t have to.”

Qrow didn't voice his fears. He was scared that if Ozpin turned up to talk to him Qrow would forgive him.

Because Qrow _wanted_ to forgive him. He wanted to forget the entire thing ever happened and go back to what they were before. Tai saw the look of melancholy, of anger at himself and reached a hand over to Qrow’s own.

Qrow didn’t move away, letting himself have the small comfort. “I don’t want anyone to watch me fall apart more than I already have.”

“That’s what family is for. To lean on.” Tai said.

“I mean. I can’t exactly go back and work for him.” Qrow sighed. “Just for the semester, and I’ll come back home, and figure out what I’m going to do from there.”

"If It's going to make you feel any better, Gylda has all but ripped his balls off." Tai said, and Qrow chuckled. 

~~~ⅽ[ː̠̈ː̠̈ː̠̈] ͌~~~

Two days later, he came in. Tyrian didn’t turn up to the counter immediately and when he did eventually come to take his order, his expression was unreadable.

"Your husband isn't with you today." Tyrian said, pursed lips. Qrow frowned, wondering who he ment.

"My...? Oh! No, Tai isn't my husband. He's my brother in law." he ran a hand through his hair as he thought back to the conversation, the parts Tyrian was present for. “Oh my god- no the girls are my nieces, he’s their father- we joke about me being their second dad because I helped raise them.”

Tyrian blinked twice before he flushed red.

"Oh! I uh. Okay.” he said, trying to not betray his own embarrassment but failing. “I didn’t burn his toast on purpose it was just the thinnest piece and I couldn’t go grab a new loaf and-”

Qrow could understand how he came to the conclusion he did, Tai was always so chummy, and his wedding rings fit seamlessly together of silver and gold. Qrow himself wore a bunch of rings. At a glance, he could understand.

“Hey, it’s okay- ” Qrow assured, trying not to smile, because he didn’t want the barista to feel guilty. "He loved it here."

"Can I get your number? Or is that too forward?"

Qrow beamed for the first time in weeks.

~~~ⅽ[ː̠̈ː̠̈ː̠̈] ͌~~~

They texted each other constantly. He kept grinning to himself that a dumb misunderstanding had pushed for the barista to ask for his contacts. 

It was a few weeks later, James had organized a party at his home, and Qrow had a plus one. Tyrian was nervous. “I’m just a barista.” Tyrian said, and it didn’t even occur to Qrow how completely out of his element he was. Tyrian looked like he had gone and bought new pants for the party, with a light pink button up and tie that he hadn’t tied properly. 

Qrow was touched at the effort- and then felt bad that he was just going in jeans, a t- shirt and leather jacket. He should have really communicated the dress code better, then again, he wasn’t exactly following it himself. He moved over in the back of the taxi, fixing his date’s tie.

“You’re perfect.” Qrow said, giving him a kiss on the cheek, earning him a small smile. “And if anyone gives you shit, I’ll kick their ass.” and with that Tyrian giggled.

He didn’t want to treat Tyrian like a dirty little secret like Ozpin had treated him. It never made sense until he thought about it more, how outside closed doors there was very little mention of their relationship, even if their friends had known about it, how Ozpin only invited him to conferences outside of the city, in fancy hotel rooms away from prying eyes. He had thought that Ozpin was not into public displays of affection.

Turned out he had a secret fucking family in Mistral. A wife, four daughters.

For the first hour they were attached to the hip, Qrow not being willing to leave Tyrian for long when he was uncomfortable, but the more they talked in small groups the more at ease the barista got, so Qrow moved away to get some snacks from the refreshment table. James always went all out on the catering. He didn’t even know you can make hotdog pastries gourmet, but here he was, eating tiny hotdog bits in flower shaped pastry.

Speaking of James, the moment Qrow was in the kitchen, grabbing more juice James was right behind him.

“Did you know your date is an ex con?” James asked. There were a lot of things Qrow wanted to say in that moment, but couldn’t stop himself growling.

“Hi to you too, James.” he rolled his eyes, crossing his arms but keeping his little flute of juice out. "Did you seriously do a background check on my date?"

“Qrow.”

“Yes, I knew he was an ex con, he told me.” He snapped, he remembered the text exchange, how Tyrian had been so nervous to tell him, but did so anyway because he didn’t want to lie to Qrow and have him find out later. It was more than consideration he got from his last relationship. “Oh, you think I’m dating him because he’s dangerous and exciting? I’m dating him because he’s nice, and I like him.”

“I just want you to be careful.”

“Yeah, thanks for the concern but I’m an adult.” He turned, and felt _James grab his arm._ It took far too much self control to not turn and deck his friend in the face, and he counted to two, exhaling deeply. “Not many people can get away with grabbing me like this, James.” he said slowly. James loosened his grip and Qrow tugged his arm away.

The night continued like the exchange didn’t happen in the kitchen. They decide to walk for a while before calling a cab, the cool Atlas air made him shiver a little. Tyrian didn’t seem bothered by it.

"Sooo. James." Tyrian said after a pause in conversation. God damnit.

“Did he talk to you?” Qrow groaned.

"Kind of, yeah." He said awkwardly. "Is he always so intense?"

"James is just being an idiot." Qrow said. 

"I wish I could talk about my boss like that." Tyrian said.

"I knew him back before he was my boss, when we were colleagues at Vale University." Qrow explained.

"So he got the job as headmaster at Atlas, and then you went with him?"

“It's more complicated than that.”

“Do you mind explaining it? I can keep up. Cause it looks like James is jealous that you brought someone to his party.”

Qrow laughed, “No no! Christ, James doesn't swing my way. He’s over protective." 

"Why?"

He stopped walking, the dark of the night illuminated with the moon. The road deserted.

"... I made a mistake." He said softly. "James… helped me. I won't give him shit, he's a good man. Got me a job, found me a little apartment."

"Sounds like he cares about you."

"What, jealous?" Qrow smiled, and Tyrian raised an eyebrow.

"And if I was?" Tyrian asked, low and surly, making Qrow shiver. Tyrian was the one to step forward, pressing lips together. He was intense, everything Qrow wanted.

~~~ⅽ[ː̠̈ː̠̈ː̠̈] ͌~~~

Sunday was hectic. He didn't get to go to the Violet Rush that morning, or in the afternoon, it was only in the evening hours was he able to get there before closing.

“Hey! Birdie!” Tyrian grinned, "Late day?"

Qrow nodded. "Yeah, and unfortunately I got called in for another lecture."

Tyrian frowned. "Again? Damn."

"As well as tomorrow." He said, and Tyrian's face fell. He hated to dissapoint the barista, hated to see him pout.

"So we have to rain check tomorrow's date, huh?"

"I know, I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you I promise." He felt guilt. "I can't stay long, I just wanted to see you."

“Let me make you something, it’s cold outside.” Tyrian said quickly, Qrow didn't even have time to protest before he was at the machine.

Tyrian refused payment for it. "You can pay for popcorn for our date."

Qrow felt awful, nursing the heat of the cup as he went outside, taking a sip of the new masterpiece. Salted caramel tonight. He wondered briefly if it had been made from scratch, it was bordering on too much salt, but it grew on him. Tyrian had made it for him, and that warmed his cheeks. 

He closed his eyes for a moment, the day finally catching up with him. The tournament the kids were entering was coming up soon and dealing with people saying that Yang shouldn’t enter because of her arm. History exams were about to start. He grimaced, not looking forward to marking them. He wondered if he could get a bonus from James for saving his ass yet again.

He opened his eyes and his world tilted sideways. Alarmed, he struggled to stay on his feet.

Someone tugged him along, he followed, his limbs jerked after them. Why was he following them? Why was their voice so familiar?

The cafe was tucked away, so was the alley that it was next to.

"Shush, baby bird." Tyrian rasped into his skin, feeling a tongue glaze up from his collar to his neck. A moan caught in his throat turned to a whine as teeth grazed against his pulse.

He couldn't stop Tyrian unbuttoning his shirt, he made a sound of protest, swallowed by a mouth on his own. Kissing and exploring heat left over from his coffee. Why was he protesting? This is what he wanted, to feel the barista so close, to feel everything he offered… he leaned back, humming in approval and found himself giggling at the nose nuzzling into his neck.

"Ticklish? Oh my." Tyrian teased.

"Tyrian." He whispered, bringing his hands up to the barista’s shoulders. He wanted them to go back to his apartment, where they can draw this out, nice and slow. “Come on.”

Tyrian pulls Qrow’s hands away, not letting him speak as he attacks his mouth once more.

"So good for me," Tyrian purred, nipping at Qrow's bottom lip, hard enough to hurt. 

Why couldn't he feel his fingertips, like they were going numb? Why could he not form words as his tongue felt so large in his mouth?

It dawned to him slowly. He's been drugged. Hands he wished to grasp, to feel - moved across his chest, fingernails scraping, digging into skin. 

But that can't be. He had only drunk from his water bottle, and tyrian had made him- salted. _Salted_ caramel. Chosen, it had to have been, to cover up the tasty of salty date rape drugs.

His brain finds itself, bringing his arm up and with as much force as he could jabbed a finger into an eye- the lovely gold like sweet honey, darkened with something primal.

Tyrian howled, a hand automatically coming up to his face, freeing the history professor so he could run- but he couldn't get far as his vision began to fail him, as his legs tripped over each other.

He was slammed into the ground, legs pushed away from each other. The animalistic laugh was followed by a strong grip to the back of his head, and his face was forced into the dirty alley floor.

"You're such a fighter!" Qrow tries to push up, but he finds broken glass as he scrambles to his hands, sharp pain digging into his palms.

It didn't stop him, Qrow pulled a knee to his chest, twisting to get out of the lock. The momentary pain of his hips twisting so awkwardly allowed him to hook around Tyrian's hip.

He swings but he misses, Tyrian angles a punch and catches his face, knocking him to the ground. Qrow could only keep his hands up to defend his face, but it was a losing battle. His lip splits from the flurry of blows, the pain numbing until it melted together.

He lost consciousness for a moment as his arms fell to his sides.

Tyrian huffed out a strangled breath, wiping his nose, a wild look in his non injured eye, the other red and weeping. As he stood he grabbed Qrow by the hair, pulling him up to his knees, slamming his head against the alley wall.

There is then a knife against his neck. He's seen Tyrian handle a knife, delicate and precise. His own in his boot, unable to get to it. He wanted to scream. What was the point in being a master of so many combat styles when none of it could help him while drugged? 

“Keep fighting, and you’ll feel it.” He hissed, letting black hair go, only to Qrow’s horror, fumbled with his jeans, tearing the zip down. Tyrian was already hard.

He tried to wake from the dream, because this couldn't be his Tyrian. The Tyrian that sends him Shakespeare lines at two in the morning because he knows he's awake. The Tyrian that spoke to him about his own sobriety, the timid, caring, shy Tyrian-

Tyrian presses a thumb into his jaw, pushing his mouth open. Qrow was exhausted and bleeding, his mind foggy and head aching. Qrow felt flesh against his lips, feeling the knife when he swallowed, the blade so close to cutting skin.

He gagged at the bitter taste as flesh was pushed past his teeth, the shudder from Tyrian as he pressed on. Qrow could only slack his jaw and try not to choke, as hips slammed forward, giving him no time to adjust to the new sensation as his head is smacked against the back of the wall with each new thrust. He's too concentrated on not choking, all the while aware, so, so aware of how much Tyrian was enjoying himself.

He could barely see anything, eyes blurred in the haze and wet. Tyrian twists at his scalp, with each pull sharp and painful. "Get me nice- nice and wet." He growled.

He can't move his limbs when he is finally let go, and falls to a heap on the ground. The drug in his body makes him feel disconnected from his brain, the pain in his skull a low throb. He cannot stop Tyrian climbing over him, tearing his jeans down past his knees and ankles, pulling his boot's off when they get in the way.

He faintly feels the warm, slick intrusion as fingers prod him, his gasp turns into a harsh cough from his abused throat. 

This is happening. There is nothing he can do. His knife is useless in his boot (gone now, whereever his pants were thrown), his limbs wouldn't answer him as he silently begged for strength, and his mind further wished to fall into unconsciousness. The small, awake part of his brain that screamed for him to get away was becoming quieter as the sea of thoughts drowned him.

Tyrian is not gentle or kind. He jabs his fingers inside Qrow, stretching him, the burn of it makes him hiss and twitch. The hands he had seen make countless coffees with such care and diligence roughly gripping his thighs.

He tries to speak, but his words come out garbled and slurred. He felt Tytian pressing, and pressing, feeling the thick head breach him. His spit had not been enough, it's a dry push, he feels his insides coil as heat pulsed through his body. The dull pulse of pleasure overshadowed so quickly by sharp, painful thrusts that make his back arc.

The knife is brought to his chest, and Qrow's shirt tatters in seconds as Tyrian drags the blade through the fold of his shirt, the blade gliding down his skin.

He trusted Tyrian. 

He can't stop his tears, he can't stop the whimpers in his throat as they are pushed out of him for the entire world to hear, he can't do anything else but cover his mouth, just something, something to keep what small piece of dignity he had left.

"Oh baby bird, does it hurt?"

He barely heard him, and moved his mouth to try and speak. He could only nod. He can't look up, he can only feel eyes burning into him. "-’hurts, it hurts."

He did not expect respite as hips began to slow, a quiet, relieved whimper escaped him, and the slow agonizing pull as he was being emptied.

He remembers the first time he really talked to the barista. Qrow was called in at the last minute to take over a professor having an emergency, so he had missed a day in his routine. He hadn't expected Tyrian to care, but the gold eyes man smiled so bright when he walked in.

"I didn't see you yesterday, did something happen?" The barista asked, concern laced his words.

"I got called into work, why, did you miss me?" Qrow smirked, digging into his jacket pocket for his wallet.

"Hard not to miss my favourite customer." Qrow had not expected that, and fumbled his wallet. Smooth as sandpaper. He looked up, knowing his face was going red, and he can't _hide_ his face going red because he was the palest man alive.

"I bet you say that to all the guys that walk in here." He said, recovering. He had never seen anyone else so early in the cafe.

"Only the pretty ones."

Qrow left as quickly as he could because he could not hide his blush, nearly forgetting his to go bag with his muffin in it.

His skin is flushed red, he feels like he's burning.

Reality is cruel, and the relief vanished, as Tyrian sat up higher, bearing his weight down on Qrow's skull with a tight grip of his hair and rammed his length back inside, he cried out, shuddering as Tyrian had managed to find his sweet spot.

The new pace is harder with less control and somehow Tyrian was reaching deeper inside him, Qrow can't even scream anymore, he numbly feels the blade trail up and down his right thigh.

Tyrian was _giggling_ as he slowed his pace, and pulled out, leaving him gaping and empty. Tyrian gripped Qrow's neglected member and coaxed it to hardness. He felt the hilt of the knife dangerously close, sitting on his thigh, facing down. The cool edge doing nothing to the inferno of heat he feels.

 _He's good with his hands_ , the thought is serrated and bitter.

When something enters him again, it's not flesh, a flash of horror makes him freeze as he realizes what it is. Tyrian had pressed the blunt tip of the handle of the knife inside him, he seemed to have gone slow so he could watch the dawning realization in Qrow's face.

It's not the blade, he is so, so grateful it's not the blade, he tries not to move his legs, tries to stay perfectly still but he can't stop the tremble.

"You're being so good for me." Tyrian cooed, Qrow can't stop the broken sob, he can't stop looking down past the hand on his cock to watch in stilted terror as the metal and wood slowly presses up to the garde.

Qrow can barely feel Tyrian twisting it, digging around, the hand working him rough and quick. He couldn’t even scream. Tyrian kept pumping him, moving his nimble hand faster, the agonizing pain of the handle pushing inside him. It feels amazing. It feels like it would never end as it builds to release.

He knows his thighs are wet, and there is no way it’s spit. When he comes, it's painful as his body clenches around the handle of the knife, as the hand around him keeps stroking him long past him being spent.

He faintly feels the handle be pulled out and getting rolled to his stomach, his shoulder being yanked harshly. Tyrian is inside him again as he pulls him to his knees, he can hardly feel the idling pace, or hands gripping his hips so tight they bruise.

Darkness tethers in the corners of his vision, as everything fades. He wants it to be over, to let sleep take him so he could wake up from this nightmare.

~~~ⅽ[ː̠̈ː̠̈ː̠̈] ͌~~~

He wakes up from pain pulling up his body. He's bleeding from a wound on his chest. 

Had he been stabbed?

He tries to sit up, but agony sweeps his body, and numbly, realizes that the majority of it was coming from his backside and thighs. Every blink threatened to take him back to the darkness.

He's not wearing pants. He finds them a few feet from him, and he struggles to move towards them. His shirt is soaked in blood, his blood, and he can barely feel his fingers from the cold.

His phone is broken in his pants pocket.

He struggles to put his pants on, bile rising in his throat at the smell and the sight. He sways when he pulls them past his knees, scabbing and bloody the tightness of the fabric bringing on more pain.

He can't manage his boots. He couldn't bend his legs anymore. So he holds them, and begins to limp out of the alley.

He doesn't know what time it is, but it's dark. He needs to get home. He has work in the morning. This was the most important part of the year.

He doesn't exactly know how he manages to walk back home, when he gripped his hand, he realized he dropped a boot somewhere along the way. He blessed his luck that the elevator was steady as it took him to his floor. 

He fumbled with his keys in his door. Not particularly caring about how he left it open.

He was freezing. His toes and fingers had the odd burning sensation of being unprotected in the cold atlas night.

He wanted to curl into bed, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep the pain away- but that meant getting blood on his sheets, and he didn't want to do that. So he stumbled into the bathroom, peeling his pants off because his right thigh was throbbing, and found another cut there. 

He couldn't roll his shoulders enough to shrug out of his shirt. He hissed when he put his hand on the side of the tub, and found glass in his palm. That explained a few things, like the bloody handprints he was leaving.

The water is cold at first when the shower head comes on, but it gradually warms up. He had enough mind not to burn himself, and his injuries sting a little less. The water goes a dull pink, but that's okay, he can deal with it. 

Even with everything hurting, the soft, misty shower soothed him as it ran down his shoulders and down his chest. He curls to his side in the tub. Qrow closed his eyes, and found sleep taking him again.

His last thoughts echoed in his skull, of a demented giggle of a man that was the only one who knew the meaning of a punchline to a joke, of one word he had seen written on his take away cups.

" _Surprise_."

**Author's Note:**

> \- Poison ⅽ[ː̠̈ː̠̈ː̠̈] ͌


End file.
